25 Shades of Felonies
by MandiRei
Summary: Imagine if Grey didn't have his wealth, lived in his mom's basement, worked in retail and drove an Eldorado. Name change to match the change in character. Rory Haines has a secret. He enjoys gourmet cooking, picking up college co-eds, and indulging in kinky playtime photography. His newest fling isn't worldly, but far from stupid. Can she cope? -dark fiction-


_**25 Shades of Felonies**_

**ONE- BANISHING THE BANSHEE**

Albert Fish stared down from his position of exaltation on the wall. It seemed like stone-grey eyes never stopped peering into Rory Haine's soul, and that sensation of having no secrets hidden from Mr. Fish fed Rory's excitement. From his bed, Rory smiled at the poster of his fascination, and then turned his attention back to the photos strewn on the worn duvet. From the beaten nightstand, he grabbed his cell phone and began laying out the Polaroid pictures as a mosaic to capture with the cell's camera. When the bevy of beauties he once dated looked up from their celluloid homes, once more he captured the looks of wonder, but this time all his girls were more travel-friendly. Perfect.

The banshee's voice entered Rory's bedroom with the same ferocity of a glass of cold water dumped down one's front resulting in one's nerves on red alert. "Rory, will you take me to work?" Nasally with a hint of whine, Lucy Haine's voice was the verbal equivalent of a cheese grater on one's ears. Years of cigarette smoking left a husky timbre to Lucy's croons, but she saved those for her flavor of the month boy toys.

Rory turned his head and addressed the voice echoing down the basement steps. "Yeah. Give me five minutes to get dressed, Mom." The door at the top of the stairs slammed shut and Rory rolled his eyes as he gathered his precious pictures and put them away in a cigar box. A deep sigh escaped his mouth as he slipped his feet into sandals, put his wallet in his jean short's pocket and palmed his car keys. He didn't take the stairs; that door was kept mostly closed by a chain lock on the basement side of the portal, thus barring Lucy from physically entering Rory's space via the house. The second exit led to the back yard, where a small concrete staircase let up to a land of never-ending landscaping projects.

Rory waited in his car for his mother to meander out to the Eldorado in the sky-high stilettos she favored. Being the majestic height of five-three, the four inch heels gave her enough height to look most in the eye. Today, a suitcase wheeled behind her, which got thrown in the back of the car before she got in and buckled up. "Second office, today." That's Lucy-lingo for Sacramento Airport. It also explained the beige pants suit. He started the car and backed out of the driveway before asking, "How long this time?"

"Oh, about four days. If I'm any longer, I'll email you."

"Hawaii again?" Rory didn't really care. As long as she was gone.

"No, Pago Pago. Flying to Honolulu for a connecting flight, though. Antonio is thinking of building a new hotel to replace the Rainmaker. Make it a new destination spot… You know, being a travel agent has its perks. If you ever get tired being on your feet all day, consider a change of career." The fact her son worked in retail was a point of contention. For as intelligent as she thought her son was, it miffed her that he chose to slave away to corporations rather than strike out on his own and make something of the Haine name.

Indeed her job does have perks, the main one being Lucy far, far away, Rory mused. There's nothing worse than having a girl over and then hear the banshee's wail, fucking up the mood. Living in a basement is one thing. Living in your mom's basement is something different altogether. Lucy's work-related trips, well, those were magical times for Rory. The kind of enchanting times with experimental gourmet cooking and making moves on the ladies.

Oldies poured forth from the tinny-sounding car speakers as they made the two-hour journey to Sacramento's airport. No one minded the quiet since it was less awkward than stilted conversation between two people who could barely stand each other. As orchards and fields whizzed by, Rory drove with absentmindedness, having made the trip countless times before. Terminal B housed Alaskan Airlines, Lucy's preferred carrier. As soon as she spoke to the air captain, Rory peeled out and made for home.

Rory's plans were formed on the way to the airport. Now, with single-minded intent and a small smile to his narrow lips, home seemed to call his name. What to wear, where to go? Rory already knew what she would look like, this girl he hoped to pick up from a bar. Chico has a bar for every kind of college kid. Some bordered skeezy. Skeezy bars are usually frequented by barflies- not his type. His type consisted of brunette with green eyes. Bouncy. He liked them giggly, giddy, and so drunk they can't say no, even if they wanted. Drunk and easy, it's the best combo for a college chick.

_Gotta shit, shower, and shave. Gotta do a load of laundry, the black guayabera and jeans. Gotta find her tonight, while I have time. _By the time he got home, a fire of excitement burned in his stomach. _She's gotta let me take pictures... I need more pictures. _

Every intention of playing the hunter coursed through Rory's being. It's been five months but felt like five years since he last got laid. With full faith in the magic elixir of ethanol. Beer, Slippery Nipples, or Sex on the Beach, they were all his allies.

Oh yes, Rory's plans were set in stone. All he needed was _her_.


End file.
